The Panic of Neville Longbottom
by Alternatively
Summary: Why a certain young herbology professor thinks his career might be over.


"Cool it, I'm coming," Harry called, opening the front door to the frantic knocking. Neville stood in the snow, vibrating with nervous energy.

"Is Ginny home?"

"Hey Neville, what's up? Ginny's just in the shower, why-"

Neville pushed past Harry and strode into the hall.

"- don't you come in," finished Harry, bemused, as Neville charged off towards the living room without even taking off his snow-caked boots.

Harry locked the front door again, and trailed after him.

"Neville?"

Neville was standing in the middle of the room twisting his beanie in his hands. Muddy snow was starting to soak into the carpet.

"I… need to talk to Ginny," he said, "Or Luna. But Luna's on retreat. Both would be better. Luna and Ginny. Ginny and Luna. They'd know what to do. Merlin's saggy- I don't know what to _do!"_ the last part ended on a wail. Neville slumped onto the couch, head in his hands. Harry eyed him sceptically.

"Girl troubles?" he asked, to lighten the mood

Neville gave a muffled squeak. Harry's eyebrows shot up.

"Wait, really? Go Neville! Tell you what, I'll get Ron and Hermione over early-"

" _No!_ " Neville looked up at him stricken, "Oh God, not Hermione, she'd just _kill_ me," he buried his face in his hands again

Really?

That's interesting…

"Neville, what did you do?"

Neville moaned in misery.

"What did I _do?_ What did I _doooo?_ Oh my God, I'm going to be _fired_ ,"

"I doubt it," said Harry, "I overheard McGonagall tell Sprout you were the only reason she was letting Sprout retire."

Neville gave another pathetic wail.

"McGonagall! Oh God! I've _ruined everything!_ "

Harry wasn't sure whether to be more concerned or amused. Neville being melodramatic was so… unlike Neville.

"Harry, have you seen my other boot?" Ginny came wandering lopsidedly out of the bedroom, dressed for dinner except for her left foot, "Hey Neville- wait- woah! Are you ok? Was all that wailing you? I thought Harry was watching one of those muggle crime shows on TV."

Neville made an odd choking sound.

Ginny limped over and crouched in front of him.

"Neville?"

He seemed to have lost the power of speech.

"He says he's done something terrible," supplied Harry, "Thinks McGonagall is going to fire him,"

Neville let out another moan.

"Well, that can't be right. McGonagall loves him,"

"That's what I said," said Harry, "Well, sort of."

There were a few loud knocks, a jingle, and the sound of the front door swinging open again.

"We're early," called Ron as the door slammed shut, "Hope you're both decent-"

"Honestly Ron- oh, hi Neville,"

At the sound of Hermione's voice, Neville let out a petrified squeak.

"Neville?" Hermione looked round at Ginny and Harry

"He thinks you're going to kill him," said Harry, starting to enjoy himself.

"What? Don't be ridiculous."

"You don't know what I've done," whispered Neville

There was a pause while Ron and Hermione took this in.

"We're not going to make it to the restaurant, are we." Said Ron, sighing, "I got all dolled up for nothing,"

Ginny snorted.

"Hey," said Ron, "I'll have you know, these trousers go all the way down to my ankles. _And_ I'm wearing a tie. If that's not dressy, I dunno what is. So," he slapped his hands together, "What'll it be? Thai? Bit of a trip, but hey, what's apparition for? I'll call,"

"Do you _ever_ think about anything except food?" Ginny sat down next to Neville, and put one arm around his shoulders protectively.

"He might be less homicidal after dinner,"

"Ha ha."

"Ron, he's really upset," Hermione had her head tipped to one side, considering Neville.

"Tea or scotch?"

Hermione gave Ron an admonishing shove, but Neville looked up for the first time, gulped and said:

"Both,"

"Same mug or- ooh ok, back in a sec," Hermione's glare banished him to the kitchen.

"You… might want to give Ron a hand," said Harry, "Neville seems to think you won't like whatever it is that McGonagall's going to fire him for, and I'm just about dead with curiosity,"

"Don't be ridiculous, McGonagall thinks-"

"Yeah," said Harry, "We've been over that. He's not buying it. Just- scoot." Harry shooed her into the kitchen and joined Ginny and Neville on the couch. There was a pause while they stared at Neville.

"Oh God, I'm going to have to say it now aren't I?"

Ginny rubbed his back sympathetically.

"You're with friends, you crazy gardener, what's going on?"

Neville took a breath to steady himself.

"I…kissed a student."

Harry and Ginny exchanged glances. Something clanged to the floor in the kitchen, and there was some scuffling, and the muffled sound of Hermione protesting.

"Told you she'd kill me," said Neville gloomily

"Ron will convince her she'll hear more with the extendable ears than if she comes back in and scares the life out of you," said Ginny knowingly, "See?"

There was silence from the kitchen.

"Who is she?"

Neville sighed and leaned back into the couch, as though just saying it out loud had freed him of part of the burden.

"Sapph. Sapphrelina Harris. Seventh year, Ravenclaw. She kissed me. God, I'm going to lose my job,"

"You think… she was trying to get you fired?" Ginny looked bewildered, "What, did you fail her in everything?"

"No, no, it's not like that! I mean, her grades could be better, but she's not _failing_ herbology. I don't think- She's not _trying_ to- at least- I don't think- Oh God, I hope not. Besides, I kissed her. What am I supposed to do?"

"Wait, slow down. Did you kiss her, or did she kiss you?"

Neville gulped, and shook his head helplessly.

"Can we come out of the kitchen now?" Ron yelled, "We're better at interrogation than you two,"

Neville put his hands over his face and moaned.

"I've got a brand new scotch-based tea cocktail with lemon,"

"Fine," Neville yelled back, "Bring me a biscuit too. I'm depressed."

Ginny snorted.

Hermione came steaming out of the kitchen.

"This is not your fault Neville-"

"Hey," said Ron, passing Ginny a boot, and Neville a mug of steaming 'cocktail' and an oversized chocolate biscuit, "I thought I was the good cop-"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You have _got_ to stop watching that nonsense. Harry, get the pensieve. Neville, it'll be faster than explaining, and then we can sort this out. You are _not_ going to be fired, if I have to blackmail that girl myself."

"Oh, no, she doesn't- I mean, I don't think- It's not like that- I mean,"

"One bowl of pensieve coming up," said Harry, grinning.

"I miss Luna," said Neville glumly, pulling out his wand to extract the memory. "I want you all to know you're weird and creepy. And I'm only doing this because- ugh, I can't talk about it."

Harry put the shimmering dish of pensieve down on the coffee table. Neville sent a silvery whisp of memory to skim along the surface, and they all crowded round.

They were standing in Greenhouse Five at Hogwarts. The air was warm and wet, and the smell of the earth and growing things was everywhere. Little balls of warm light floated through the giant leaves, keeping the glasshouse warm despite the snow outside. Harry glanced over at the others. Neville was somehow managing to look gloomy, embarrassed and hopeful all at the same time. Ron was loosening his tie, Hermione was pulling a face and trying to smooth down her instantly enormous cloud of hair. Ginny grinned and turned to Neville.

"It's one of those papayatrope night tree things, isn't it? What a nuisance."

Neville nodded, and from the other end of the greenhouse they heard a peal of Neville's laughter, chiming with a gurgle of someone else's. The Neville with them blushed beetroot.

"What's a-" began Harry

"Well, you'd know if you'd finished school," said Ginny, "Fruits at night, but the fruit is rotten by morning unless you pick it. We all took turns staying up with the damn thing for a whole month in seventh year. You only get one or two pieces of fruit a night. I'd say it was a total waste of time, but it's being used for research into memory damage. _Someone_ thinks there's a chance the juice has very specific healing properties."

"Well, it might," said Hermione, defensively, "I'm not the only one who thinks that,"

"Anyone with relatives with memory problems thinks that," said Neville, "If you want to see this, we'll need to go over there. She's about to hand me some fruit."

Ron muttered something that might have included the word 'innuendo'. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, and they all trailed down the rows of shiny dark leaves and bright spiky flowers, to the clump of trees at the back.

The Neville of the memory looked happy. He was sitting on the edge of a table, one leg swinging, as he gave gentle instructions to a leggy girl with white-blonde hair and the movements of a dancer.

Ron let out a whistle.

"You are sooo fired,"

"Shut up,"

The girl was peering under the big teardrop shaped leaves of the tree.

"It's so weird- it's like time lapse photography, but real," she said

"What's that?"

"You'd love it, they film plants growing- ok, it's about the size of a quaffle-"

"Good, if it's ready, it should just come off when you twist it- but don't force it- it should just sort of twist off-" Neville got up and went to stand next to her.

"Oh wow, ok, yeah," she pulled her hands out of the foliage, and Harry could see she was now holding what looked like a giant blue peach. She looked at Neville. Neville looked at her. They were exactly the same height, and there was a _whole_ lot of eye contact going on. Harry suddenly felt very guilty about intruding on this particular memory. Ginny's fingers were digging into his arm.

"Oh my God… is that…?" Ginny sounded stunned.

There was rustling, and memory Neville swore and dove into the leafy night tree.

"Usually you have to wait hours before you get another one," he said, emerging with another night fruit in his hands. "Sorry about that, I wasn't paying attention-"

She smiled at him.

"Well, you _were_ , just not to the tree," she said

Memory Neville blinked and blushed and stammered. The girl blushed too, as though she hadn't quite meant to say it out loud. She bit her lip, and then all at once, pushed the blue fruit into Neville's hands, forcing him to hold the second night fruit even though it was clearly awkward to have one in each hand.

"Hey, what are you-"

"Don't drop them."

"I'm not going to- what are you-"

"This is entirely my fault." She said.

"It's the _tree's_ fault," said Neville, distractedly trying to roll the second of the peach things across his front so he could get a better grip on it, "That almost never happens,"

She took a breath and stepped closer to Neville, putting her hands on his chest. Neville stopped dead. Frozen with a giant blue peach in each hand.

"My fault," she said again, "Just in case McGonagall's got surveillance or something in here," Then she leaned forward and kissed him.

Just once. Memory Neville's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.

Ron clapped current Neville on the back.

"Nothing to worry about. She kissed you."

"Yes," said Neville grimly, "But I didn't exactly discourage her. Though to be fair, I was holding two giant pieces of fruit. Anyway, that's not the worst part,"

"I should say not, " said Ron grinning, "Looked pretty good from here. Gotta love a woman with initiative,"

"We must look really odd," said Hermione abruptly.

"What do you mean? They can't see us," said Harry, puzzled

Hermione blushed

"No, I mean, Ron's really tall, and I'm quite short…"

"Oh. Yeah, you guys look ridiculous."

"Gee-"

Neville's wail interrupted them.

"Oh God, I just put the fruit down. Why did I do that? Stop it you idiot, you're not thinking straight!"

Neville's memory self nestled the blue fruit into the waiting packing tray, and paused, back to her. The girl bit her lip, scuffed her shoe and said:

"Anyway. Goodnight."

She started walking towards the door, but Neville turned as though compelled, wrenched himself away from the fruit and reached for her arm.

She froze and turned to look at him.

They could see that Neville was hardly touching her at all, fingertips trailing down her arm towards her hand. She let out a relieved laugh and flung her arms around him.

"Now, _that_ is what I call snogging," said Ron, "You're a very bad professor, Neville. So, you're out of a job. You'll find another one. At least you'll have a smoking hot girlfriend- ow, Hermione, stop elbowing me!"

"Stop being a prat, then,"

Memory Neville paused mid-snog and gently pushed her away. The greenhouse seemed to fill with reluctance.

"I think," said memory Neville croakily, "I should probably finish this shift alone."

She nodded and turned to go. When she got to the door, she paused to look back at Neville, who was slumped on the table edge looking confunded.

"Try not to freak out," she said, "I graduate in a few months." She smiled, eyes alight with mischief, "I won't tell McGonagall, if you don't,"

Everything started to fade.

Back in Harry and Ginny's living room, Neville siphoned his memory of the pensieve and put it back in his head. Then he took a big swig of Ron's scotch-and-tea concoction and winced.

"I'm fired aren't I?"

"Only if McGonagall finds out," said Hermione, "And even then, it might just be a suspension."

Ron nodded.

"McGonagall's a real sucker for a good romance. It's only a three year age gap and she clearly likes you- it's not like you're a fifty year old lecherous professor or anything."

Ginny was frowning.

"Nev, I know you said her name before, what-"

"Sapph."

"No, her full name,"

"Sapphrelina Harris,"

"Oh my God," Ginny blinked and shook her head, "This is _brilliant_ ,"

"What?" Everyone stared at Ginny.

" _That_ was little Lina Harris,"

"So?"

Ginny rolled her eyes

"Her mum's a muggle, her dad's… conspicuously absent,"

"So?"

"It doesn't matter, Gin," said Neville, taking a bite of biscuit, "It's not like there's any proof. And she's not like them anyway, so who cares,"

Ginny smirked.

"No, it doesn't _matter,_ but it's excellent _gossip._ I just want to see the look on their faces when they work it out,"

"This is getting boring," said Ron impatiently, "What's the big secret? Who is she?"

Ginny grinned.

"Doesn't she remind you of anyone?"

"No," said Ron, "Why would she? I'm hungry."

"There's nothing about that silky, straight, white-blonde hair that is even remotely familiar?"

"Not unless she's Malfoy's little sister," said Ron, stealing a chunk of Neville's biscuit.

Ginny's grin widened.

Ron choked on a chocolate chip.

"She's Malfoy's- No, not possible-"

"Half-sister," finished Ginny smugly, "And this, _this_ is why I love gossip. I'm thinking I might write for Witch Weekly,"

Harry let out a breath.

"Does he know?"

Neville glanced up.

"Who, Draco? Maybe. Who knows. Who cares? _What should I do?"_

Hermione chuckled.

"Say nothing for the moment… don't kiss her again 'til she's graduated… and don't name your son after his maternal grandfather. Any kid called Lucius is bound to get picked on. Now, let's get dinner before Ron tries to eat the coffee table. Good thing we came early, I think we can still make our reservation. Neville, I'll side-along you, I saw how much scotch went into that tea."

As they traipsed out the door, Harry turned this intriguing new piece of gossip over in his mind.

Draco Malfoy's _sister._ Draco was a right bastard… but he was also a product of his upbringing. Neville's girl Sapph seemed fairly lovely. Same genes, different environment. Draco probably wouldn't believe it anyway. Or… if he did, wouldn't acknowledge it. But… Harry frowned. If he had a half-sister… well, he'd want to know. But he wasn't an evil creep like Malfoy. But if he was… Harry tried to picture Draco with his parents. That can't have been a fun childhood.

 _Don't interfere, you idiot._ But little memories of Draco looking miserable and alone kept popping into his mind's eye.

"Slimy, ferret-faced git," he muttered. But as he put on his coat, he knew he wouldn't be able to help himself. Sometime in the next fortnight, he was going to crack and pay a visit to his old enemy. Probably nothing would come of it- they'd just trade insults and hexes and Harry would leave, wondering why he'd gone in the first place- but if something did, if Malfoy really was a person under all that spite and malice… Harry paused in the doorway, thinking it was a bit unfair to spring Draco on anyone, much less a perfectly nice girl who might have the misfortune to be related to him. But then he caught sight of Neville, wand out, vanishing soggy snow stains from the carpet and apologising to everyone for making a mess. Sapphrelina had Neville on her side. Draco versus Neville in a duel, who would win? Once upon a time, Draco would have crushed Neville like a bug. Now though? Harry chuckled. Well, if the options were a. Draco does nothing, or b. Draco turns out to be a lovely half-brother, or c. Draco gets pulverised by Neville… then there really was no downside. And if it was option c... Harry smiled to himself. If it was option c... He'd have to start charging people to visit Neville's memories… Really, it was worth doing, just on the off-chance…


End file.
